


A Lesson in Loss

by rumplestiltskinsbulge



Series: Long Lost Friends [2]
Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV), Rumbelle - Fandom, ouat
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esteemed lawyer Anthony Gold and Ms. Belle French were friends everyday of their childhood, until he and his mother moved away. It had been fifteen years since he’d heard from her, and when he did he found they slipped back into their friendship easily. When her father, Moe French, dies of a heart attack, he insists on coming to help her out, and finds that she may need more than his help with the funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson in Loss

**Author's Note:**

> This is hopefully just the start! You can also find this on my tumblr page (http://grumplegold.tumblr.com/). I hope you like it! Feedback is welcomed.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since Anthony Gold had seen his little friend. So when his assistant handed him the stack of mail he was a bit surprised to see that, amongst the typed business letters that often came through the law firm, there was a handwritten letter with the return address of his home town. The name on the return read Belle French. His brows raised slightly. Well that certainly wasn’t something he was expecting to see. 

He used the ornate mail opener to cut an even and clean line in the top of the envelope. He retrieved the lined sheets of paper, unfolding them and sweeping his eyes over the gently scrawled words. She had seen him in the newspaper after a big win and couldn’t help but contact him. She wrote of the times they spent playing in the garden of his home and reading in the library of hers, and a fond smile the likes of which his assistant had never seen crossed his lips.

At the end of the letter, she had given him her address, phone number, and an email that he could reach her at. Which he did, frequently. For the first few months, it was an email once a week, and then eventually as often as they could. Little by little, they caught up in what had happened in the other’s life.

She had attended an art college while he had gone to law school. Shortly after graduating, she returned to their hometown to help her father and work as the librarian in the town’s public library. He had gotten married fresh out of law school to a woman whom he had loved, and gone into business with her brother. After a few years, their marriage became too much for her. Too in love with his work, she’d said, and left him for some pretty sailor boy. The sting of that hurt more then he wanted to admit, and more every day.

She’d started dating George Gaston, the head of security at the town’s city hall. He was a big and burly man with the intelligence of a rock, and had tormented Gold until he and his mother had moved away when he was fifteen. Anthony didn’t even pretend to like her choice in men, and she knew it. But she assured him he had grown up since they were younger, and he decided to take her word on it.

The more they talked, the more he remembered how close they had been. As children, she was his only friend. The more he thought about it, that was probably still true. It was a few months before he got the nerve up to call her for the first time. It seemed stupid, that a super successful man who made his living off of talking to people was nervous about a phone call to an old friend. Nonetheless, he was. He had a habit of screwing things up when he tried to be social, and had never been one to quite grasp social graces.

As the phone rang, he felt his heart beating a bit louder, his palms sweating a bit. This was really ridiculous. Why was he so nervous? He was about to hang up the phone when Belle’s voice stopped him up short. “Hello?” She asked, her voice sunny and questioning.

He cleared his throat a bit. “Miss French?” He started, his tone professional. “It’s Anthony Gold.”

“Tony!” She gasped, and he could actually hear the smile on her face. “What an unexpected surprise!” Her voice was filled with a warmth that he’d never heard from someone talking to him.

“If it was expected, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.” He pointed out. What was that? A lame attempt at humor? She seemed to appreciate it, though, as she chuckled in true amusement.

“I suppose you’re right.” she conceded. “So what’s up?” What’s up? She meant why was he calling.. maybe she was busy, or didn’t want to talk.

“I was just stuck in traffic and thought I might… see how you are.” He told her, looking out of the town car window at the busy streets of New York. “U-unless you’re busy. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Of course not!” She replied, the smile still in place. “I’d love to talk to you! I’ve thought about calling you, but I know how busy you are.” She wanted to talk to him, another thing he wasn’t quite used to.

“You can call me any time you would like, Miss French.” He told her.

She chuckled again, and he wondered exactly what he’d said that was so funny. “Anthony, please.. call me Belle.” She told him. “The kids at the library call me Miss French.” She found his business like manner a bit amusing.

They spoke of everything and nothing at once, and Gold’s nerves didn’t really ease. But he did find that talking to her was easier than he’d thought it would be. He made what seemed to be all of the wrong joke choices, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she found them funny. And he found talking to her wasn’t completely painful. 

After that, their emails got longer and their calls more frequent as months turned into years. They had even started a slow but interesting game of online chess. They updated moves as often as they could, but between busy work schedules (mainly on his part) and time to think through their moves, it was slow going. He was surprised to see she was so good at it, though he knew he shouldn’t have been.

* * * *

Anthony was up late in his office, suit jacket folded over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up and his tie looser then usual, pouring over papers from a new case he’d gotten. When his cell rang, he sighed, exasperated. When he saw Belle’s name, though, he relaxed a bit. “Hey,” he said, running slender fingers through his hair.

“Hey,” she responded, and he could tell something was wrong. It didn’t take too much persuasion for her to tell him, as it had been the reason for her call. Her father had died. “A heart attack.” She told him. She seemed to be holding it together, but Anthony knew how much she must have been hurting. He’d felt it too.. that pain. When his mother died.

“Belle..” he knew from experience that nothing he could say would make her feel better. They would just be words. “Get some rest if you can.” was what he settled for. “You won’t have to deal with this alone.” That was always the worst..

He left two days later, having wrapped up his responsibilities as much as he could and taking the work that couldn’t wait with him. A perk of being one of the most successful lawyers in the firm was that he had access to a company plane. That made the travel quick and relatively painless, even for a cripple. 

* * * *

He came to the Boston airport and limped out to the car waiting to take him to Storybrooke, Maine. He had planned to stay at Granny’s Inn, but Belle had insisted that he stay with her. She’d tried to keep him from coming so early to help, but he wouldn’t hear of it. They had gotten closer in the two years of late night phone calls and emails, and she was his only friend once more. He wanted to help her. He needed to help her. 

As the car pulled into the driveway, he smiled a bit. The house looked just the same. Memories of them reading in her library, him sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the couch as she read to him, came back. As the driver got out to grab his bags for him, he looked at the house and felt his palms sweating in the leather gloves. He gripped the golden handle tighter as he opened the door and got out. 

The front door opened, and a beautiful woman walked out. She was dressed in a lovely vintage skirt and shirt ensemble that both hugged her in all of the right places and was modest. Her smile was warm, and Gold could have sworn he saw a hint of relief in her eyes. She had always been a pretty girl, but she had truly grown to be a beautiful young woman. It had him a bit frozen in his spot as she moved from the door, telling the man where to put his things. When she turned her attention back to him, he’d finally recovered enough to move toward her, trying not to lean too heavily on his cane.

Belle met him half way, her smile widening. “Anthony..” she said, hugging him. He wasn’t expecting the hug, and he faltered for a moment. Slowly, he raised his free hand to rest tentatively on her back in a hug. “Thank you so much for coming to help.”

He smiled as she pulled away from him. It was a sort of strained, awkward smile, but one that he couldn’t help give her. “No need to thank me, dearie.” He told her. “That’s what old friends are for, hmm?” He searched her blue orbs for any sign of the pain she must have been feeling. When did her eyes get so blue? “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

She shook her head. “Please, it’s the least I could do for all of your help!” She gestured towards the house as his man came back out. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.” 

“That sounds lovely.” He twisted his hand on the handle of his cane, a bit nervously. He followed her into the house, that looked almost just as it had all those years ago. It made him feel strangely different. Almost more like he was when they were younger. 

As they drank the tea, they made slightly awkward conversation about his travel and her boyfriend. He was busy these days, she told him. He wanted to help but couldn’t and she understood. Anthony felt like there was more to it than that, but he didn’t want to push her to discuss something she obviously didn’t want to talk about. Still, he made no attempt to hide his displeasure with Gaston’s lack of support.

The next few days went by rather quickly. Most of their conversations centered around funeral arrangements and her father’s affairs. At night, he would hole up in the room she’d set up for him to work on the case he’d brought with him. It was two nights of this before she offered to let him use her father’s study. “Belle.. I’m perfectly alright up here if you don’t want-”

“Don’t be silly,” she interrupted, helping him gather his things. “It can’t be comfortable working up here, and the study is just collecting dust when we aren’t sifting through his papers.” She had been taking all of this extremely well, he’d found. But he was waiting for the moment that she broke down. When she did, he would be there. He didn’t know what he would or could do, but he would be there.

And so at night he would go to her father’s study to work, and she would bring him food. He told her she didn’t have to worry about him, but she insisted. “What sort of hostess would I be if I let my guest starve?” She asked him. “Besides, the town has come together to try and help as much as they can. I have people coming almost twice a day to bring me casseroles so that I don’t have to cook.” She found it sweet that they cared so much. Anthony just thought they wanted to brag around that they had done their bit of good.

After setting his plate down, she would come behind the chair and rest a hand on his shoulder. She would ask about his work, and he would tell her. At first, it was out of sheer surprise that anyone would care enough to ask. Soon, however, he found it was a nice way to get a fresh perspective on things. Even just telling her about the problems helped clear some of them up, and sometimes she even had a helpful thing or two to say. She had a good head about her, even if her knowledge about the law was limited. But between the two of them, they’d solved some major problems he would be facing in the case.

Her company was welcomed at all times of the day. He hadn’t really expected that.. even when she would just come into the study while he was working and read in one of the chairs. Having him there seemed to be a comfort for her, even if they didn’t speak, and honestly, it did wonders for his lonely soul. He had once more found a kinship in her that he’d found in no one else. And her smile.. her lovely smile that warmed his long since cold heart.. When she read in the study, he would find himself looking up at her. 

She was a sight to see when she read. She would get so absorbed in the story, smiling widely at something that made her happy, giggling at something she finds funny, and possibly the cutest was when she would make an indignant noise at something she didn’t like. He would try to hide a rare smile as he looked back to his work.

All too soon, the day for the funeral came. There was a decent turn out, and it was a classic ceremony. Wearing a suit was pretty much a daily thing for him, but the rest of the town dressed up in various shades of black for the event. Belle wore a pretty black dress that, while nice, wasn’t something he liked seeing her in. Black didn’t suit her normally sunny personality.

She had seemed relatively okay over the last few days, tearing up at some of their recollections but nothing major, and he fully expected today to be the day she finally broke down. During the ceremony, Anthony stood beside her. Where her boyfriend should have been. That good for nothing hulk of a man was off at work, apparently. Unavoidable. Anthony didn’t buy that. What sort of man let his lady go through something like this alone?

As she cried at the beautiful words spoken by the preacher, Gold swallowed hard. He wished he could comfort her. He tensed a bit as he felt her hand slide into his, unsure of what to do. Eventually he relaxed, squeezing her hand a bit to offer some silent comfort. It seemed to work as her tears started to slow near the end, and she placed a bouquet of flowers on the coffin before they lowered it down.

Though others left, Gold stayed by Belle, hand in hand until the last of the dirt had been placed. She had stopped crying, but she hadn’t wanted to move. And he would give her all of the time she needed. They stood in a comfortable silence together, and she eventually drew in a breath and sighed. “We should go. People will be arriving soon.” She was having the wake at her home, and Anthony just hoped she wouldn’t stress over it too much..

* * *

She wasn’t eating. She flitted around the rooms of her home making small talk and refreshing drinks. She worried over food and if there was enough of it, though she shouldn’t have been. Granny Lucas had provided enough of her over praised lasagna and other such things to feed the guests for days if they needed. Her worries were unfounded and getting in the way of her own well being. She hadn’t been eating a lot before, and she hadn’t eaten anything that day at all.

As she moved around to gather trash, Anthony seized the opportunity to bring her a plate of food. “Dearie, you should eat.” he said, offering the plate to her. She shook her head, continuing her work.

“Not just yet,” she told him. When he insisted again, she smiled at him. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she tried. “Alright, set it on the table and I’ll eat when I’m done tossing these out.” He relaxed a bit as she promised to eat, setting it down where she had indicated.

He wasn’t good at talking to people. He was good at talking at them, telling them why they should find someone guilty or not guilty, but socializing was a whole other thing. He answered questions with short and vague replies, and it wasn’t long until they just left him alone. That was fine. He preferred it that way. 

He looked around the room, eyes scrutinizing every person there. Miss Ginger was her natural, nosey self, gossiping away as she had for as long as he could remember. George still wasn’t there. He knew Belle had said that he couldn’t get out of work, but the observation still made him frown. He should have been there for her. When his eyes set on Belle again, he was glad to see her sitting. She’d not stopped running around all day, so it was good to see her resting. He wondered if she’d eaten yet, but looking to the small table, he could see she hadn’t. He frowned deeper, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his weight. Leaning on the cane, he limped over to the plate.

Picking it up, he could see plain as day she hadn’t so much as touched it. This wouldn’t do. With the help of his cane, he turned and made his way to where she sat on the couch with Marco, who was reliving a fond memory of her dearly departed father. He cleared his throat, standing behind her. “Terribly sorry for interrupting,” he said as they both turned to him, his tone making it clear that he was, by no means, sorry. “Belle, you still haven’t eaten.” He reminded her. Marco excused himself then, and Belle waved him off.

“Oh, thank you Anthony.” She replied. “But I’m not really hungry.” 

“You still need to eat, dearie.” He told her, holding it out to her. “You’ll be surprised to find it will make you feel better.”

“But I’m not-” She was interrupted by Miss Ginger calling her over to ask about something, and as she stood he tried to interject. “Ah, later.” she promised him with another, strained smile.

Gold practically growled as she walked away from him. He despised being ignored. Besides, couldn’t these people see she hadn’t eaten? Surely someone must have noticed besides him. No.. they were all too busy gossiping, or talking about the game last Friday, or telling Belle their stupid stories about Moe helping with their rain gutters. It made him sick. He wanted to throw them all out and force Belle to eat. But he knew she would be furious.

Instead, he limped his way into the empty kitchen, practically throwing the plate of food into the can. He leaned against the counter, heaving a heavy sigh. He couldn’t give up. she needed to eat something. Anything.

Toast.

He remembered when they were children and Belle would be upset or sick and refused to eat. Her father would make her toast, and she would always eat it. It was worth a try. Grabbing the bread, he popped slices into the toaster and limped over to the fridge for the butter. He knew she liked her butter covering as much of the toast as possible, but only a thin layer. Just enough for a layer of cinnamon sugar to stick on it and give it a sweeter taste.

He supposed he had no idea if she still liked it that way, but it was better than nothing. He had just finished the second slice when Belle walked in to refill a cup. “Oh, Anthony! I wanted to thank you again for all of your help.” She said as she filled the cup. He simply nodded.

When she finished, he reached out and caught her before she could leave. She looked at him in confusion as he took the cup from her. “Eat.” He told her, gesturing to the paper plate with the toast on it. “I’ll take this.”

She nodded slowly, looking at the toast, and it wasn’t until he got into the living room that he realized he had no idea who the glass was for. Oh well, he didn’t give a damn anyway. Placing it on the nearest table, he limped back into the kitchen to make sure she was eating. She wasn’t, but was instead sitting at the small dining table, crying.

Gold’s heart dropped and he limped quickly to her. For a moment, he just stood there. What should he say? He was never good at being comforting. “Dearie?” he asked, carefully. Belle sniffled, looking at the plate in front of her.

“My father used to make me cinnamon sugar toast.” She told him.

“I know.” was all he could think to say.

“When I wouldn’t eat, he’d make it and I just couldn’t resist.” She smiled through her tears and he just listened. “And after I’d realize how hungry I really was.” As she started to sob again, he sat in the chair on her side, setting a hand awkwardly over one of hers. It was meant to be comforting, but he was sure it was failing.

“George left me.” She managed to choke out after a long moment. Gold felt a pang of surprise at that.

“He left you?” He asked. He’d expected for her to come to her senses and leave him eventually, but what could that brute use to justify leaving sweet, darling Belle? He supposed it made more sense now, why he wasn’t there to help her in her time of need. She nodded sadly, trying to hold back more tears. “Did he.. give a reason?” He asked, gently as he could manage.

Belle sniffled a few more time as tear stained eyes refused to look at him. “I-I’m pregnant.” she admitted, voice small and full of a terrible sadness. Anthony’s body went rigid. 

She was pregnant. His Belle, his best friend.. was pregnant. And that brute had left her? “Does he know?” He asked, jaw clenched. Tears fell from her eyes as she nodded silently. Gold’s grip on her hand tightened a bit, though not enough to hurt her. That insufferable fuck! He knew? He knew that sweet, caring Belle was with child and he left her anyway? Or he left her because of that. “I’ll kill him.” His voice was low and poisonous, his Scottish brogue thickening in anger. 

Belle finally brought her tear soaked eyes to look up at him, a bit of panic in her eyes. “Anthony, no!” she pleaded. “Please… just..” she was trembling under his touch, and he forgot his anger for a moment to focus all of his concern on her. 

“Belle..” he loosened his grip on her hand a bit. “Belle I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you further.” It was the last thing he’d wanted. She kept crying, and he couldn’t stand it. He had been waiting for this moment, when her resolve came crashing down.. but he didn’t know what to do. “Dearie.. why don’t you go upstairs, hmm? Take a bath and I’ll take care of our guests.” 

Belle shook her head. “No, no! I-I’m okay. I’ll be okay..” she insisted. 

“Belle, dearie.. no one will be upset.” He squeezed her hand, reaching forward to wipe away some tears. “They’ll understand if you aren’t feeling up to it.” He couldn’t stand to see her like this. So hurt and afraid… If he ever saw that no good George Gaston, he was going to shove his cane right down his throat. “Alright?”

After a moment, Belle nodded. “Alright..” she said, sniffling. She stood, and looked down at the table with a sad smile. “The toast is cold..” He waved it off.

“By the time you’re out of the bath everyone will be gone, and I’ll have a nice dinner made up for you.” He promised her. She gave him a small smile and turned to leave. Before she did, though, she turned back and came over to him, wrapping him in a surprise hug. 

“Thank you so much.” She whispered close to his ear. The heat of her breath on his skin made a tingle move down his spine and straight to his groin. He tried to think of anything but how close she was, settling for his hatred of her ex. That seemed to work. He awkwardly returned her hug.

“You’re welcome, dearie.” He said, remaining seated as he watched her move upstairs. To take a bath… The thoughts that ran through his head made him feel a bit ashamed of himself. Her father just died, her boyfriend left her pregnant and alone.. she was vulnerable and in so much pain and here he was, sitting in her kitchen fantasizing about her in the bath.. He really was a terrible person, wasn’t he?

He shook the thoughts from his head as he used his cane to help him stand. He moved into the living room and cleared his throat. He let them know that Belle wasn’t feeling well and that it was time for them to go. He may have been a bit more cold and a tad ruder than he’d meant, but he didn’t really care. They all said their goodbyes as he ushered them out. The living room was a bit of a mess, and he knew if she came down stairs to see this, she wouldn’t rest like she should.

Sighing, he started to clean up. He hadn’t had to clean in.. years. He had a cleaning girl for that. But he managed, and in decent time. Luckily, they’d had the foresight to use disposable cups, plates, and utensils, so as he filled the trash bag he didn’t have to worry about dishes.

The kitchen was full of food, and he was glad of that. He’d never been much of a cook. He placed some of Granny’s lasagna on a plate and some vegetables from the plater and set it aside as he started to put away the left over food. He thought of Belle, and of her situation. He seethed over George Gaston and the gall the man had to leave her with his child. 

And now, with her father gone, she would have no one to help her. Perhaps she could come back to New York with him. He could turn his study into another room.. at least until she could get on her feet. She shouldn’t have to go through this all alone. But.. what if she said no? Why would she say yes? He was crippled, hardly home, and had no experience with pregnancy or children.. She could stay here, in a large and comfortable home with a town full of people who would help care for her. She wouldn’t want to move to a noisy, dirty city with a grouchy and awkward lawyer…

“Wow.. Tony..” Belle’s voice made him turn form the refrigerator that he’d just closed. There she stood in a pair of comfortable and fitting sweat pants and a light blue tank top, her hair hanging in wet curls around her face. “You didn’t have to clean up.” He smiled a bit, more at the sight of her then at anything else.

“You need to rest,” he said. “It was no trouble. Now come, you haven’t eaten all day.” He took the plate of food, and limped over to the small table as she sat down. He placed it in front of her and sat in the chair he’d been at before. 

“What about you?” She asked, picking up her fork. She was sweet to worry about him at such a time.

“Don’t worry about me, dearie.” He told her, shaking his head. “You worry about you.” And the baby.. His eyes flickered to her stomach, where the wee little lass or lad was a mere bundle of tissue for now. He still felt a bit in shock about the news.

“Not until you get something too.” She told him, stubbornly. His gaze moved back up to her eyes, and they looked at each other for a moment, her blue eyes challenging him to test her resolve in the matter. Sighing, he stood. 

“Alright, if it means so much to you.” If it would get her to eat, he would too. Moving to the lasagna, he grabbed a plate and got himself some, and some vegetables as well. Setting it on the table, he got them both cups and the pitcher of tea in the fridge. Sitting back down, he looked at her. “There, happy?”

Her smile showed him she was even before she nodded. “Yes.” she said, taking a bite of the pasta. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and poured them both some tea after setting his cane to the side. As she made a slightly moaning sound at the taste, he stared intently at his plate. “This is really good..” She said, taking some more.

“It’s Granny Lucas’ doing..” he said, trying to distract himself with eating a vegetable. “Though I doubt it’s that great..” She smiled a bit, shaking her head.

“You never did care for her.” She replied. He mumbled something about her being a grouch, and that gained him a soft chuckle from the woman. They ate in silence that was only slightly more awkward than their usual meals. She seemed melancholy, and Gold wished there was something that he could do. He wanted to offer her comfort and help, but she’d had a hard day as it was. She needed something to relax her.

He hadn’t eaten much, but she had finished her pate. That made him feel better. As he moved to stand and collect the plates, she beat him to it. “Please, let me.” She asked him, and the look in her eyes made him feel like maybe she needed to stay busy. So instead, he sat back and watched her clear away the plates, frowning softly. 

His thoughts moved back to his childhood, when his mother would rush about the kitchen. She would clean and cook and bake.. and he would know something was wrong. It would happen mostly when his father would show up. Those would be days she would usher him to Belle’s and he would stay there all day. He would be in a foul mood, and she would always do her best to cheer him up. 

“Ah, dearie..” he said, using his cane to stand. “I just realized I’ve yet to visit the library.” He gave her a strained smile. He was trying to make her feel more at ease, and she seemed to recognize that. “I uh.. seem to have forgotten exactly where it was. Care to show me?” Of course he knew where it was.. but he had an idea to make her more at ease. Belle’s smile wasn’t as bright as usual, but it was there.

“Of course.” Gold stood and took his cane, following her as she lead him into the hall towards the library. It was always her favorite spot, and as a child he had been fond of it as well. Being there, he could get lost in the words of her books, and still get the attention of his little friend. As they came to the familiar room, he chuckled.

“If I thought it was possible I’d say there are even more books in here than before.” He teased, gaining him a smile.

“There may be..” she admitted, chuckling softly. Anthony made his way to the love seat, a small, light green sofa that had seemed so much larger when they were young. As he settled on one end, he watched her as she moved to one of the shelves, pulling out a book. “Remember this one?” She asked. “Through the Looking Glass..” She smiled as she came to sit by him.

Anthony gestured for her to let him take the book, and she handed it over. He grinned a bit, chuckling. “I brought this over to you after I accidentally ruined one of your books.” He recalled. “And we read it a million times after that.” He had a copy in his study, though not so old or worn as the one in his hands. “Would you like to again?” He asked. “I could read it to you. For… old time’s sake.”

Belle seemed to think it over, and the look on her face made him think that maybe he had suggested something she found too strange. He was about to say never mind, that it was a foolish suggestion, when she smiled. “I would like that.” She admitted. Staring at her in a bit of surprise for a moment, he simply nodded, and began to open the book.

Belle settled in beside him, resting her back and head against the sofa, and pulling her feet up around her, gently resting on the side of his leg for lack of room. She looked comfortable enough, and he began to read. He wasn’t certain how long it was he’d been reading, but when he looked back up, Belle was asleep. 

He stopped reading and closed the book, taking in the sight for a moment. She was so peaceful.. so beautiful. Leaning forward, he brushed some of the now dried curls from her face, and stood gently. He didn’t want to wake her, for fear that she wouldn’t go back to sleep, but he couldn’t carry her with his bad leg. Instead, he settled for the next best option, and carefully laid her out so that she was laying more comfortably on the sofa, a pillow from her room under her head and her blanket as well.

Satisfied that she was as comfortable as she could be, he leaned in and brushed a tentative kiss to her forehead before leaving her for the night.


End file.
